anybody home?

the street and the houses.
the outside and the inside.
the visible cold and the imagined heat.
the rules they invent for us to follow; the secrets that they allow us to keep.
the absence of time and the promise of an end – maybe in the next corner.
the seen and the hidden.
the old and the modern.
the gray and the red.
the shinning of the day and the presage of its decline, the subtle shadow in the very core of light.

is there any people inside the houses? some name plates seem to suggest so; but their owners may be elsewhere for the moment.
the snow that accumulates outside; and the persistent question: inside, which kind of dust is about to fill every empty room?
what are the plants falling down on the façades really for? are they the only living being around? are they just sleeping until the first figure appears, taking some life, some animation, into the frame?
so many questions, so many windows, an apparently easy way to go through - and the mystery persists.

every image is just an approach to its underpinning geometry, its architecture.
and when we can discard the accumulation of things and see just the geometry, the architecture, actually we are confronted with the face of absence, of the author, of the geometer.
there is nobody home.
no need to knock at any door.

the Geometer has left us alone with the images that we constantly produce and reproduce, in an endless quest of Him, in an absurd sticking to the image of a lonely and distant quarter.

voj 2007
Photo (Old Riga): Evita Alle